


Old Time's Sake

by F00T



Series: The Takeover are #Soulmates [9]
Category: Professional Wrestling, 新日本プロレス | New Japan Pro-Wrestling
Genre: Anal Sex, Ex Sex, Hair-pulling, Hate Sex, M/M, No Lube We Die Like Men, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Poor Life Choices, Rough Sex, Table Sex, Working Out My Feelings Through Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-20
Updated: 2019-09-20
Packaged: 2020-10-24 18:21:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20710466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/F00T/pseuds/F00T
Summary: Set during Destruction in Kagoshima 2019.This is literally just Kenta getting plowed because my best friend's birthday was this week and they were feeling disaster-level horny. You're welcome.





	Old Time's Sake

**Author's Note:**

  * For [orchidblossom](https://archiveofourown.org/users/orchidblossom/gifts).

Kenta was feeling antsy.

It had been a while since he’d had a real main event on show this size and he’d overestimated how much time he’d need to get ready. He was already in his gear, he’d already stretched and done some light calisthenics but he had some time to kill before his match that night. When a production assistant informed him that the venue had set up a small spread of snacks and water for the performers, he figured claiming some of that food for himself was a good enough use of his time as anything.

He made his way to the spare room he was told contained their little buffet and was disappointed to see that everything had already been picked over. There was plenty of bottled water still, and Kenta grabbed a bottle from one of the cases stacked at the far end of the table, but all that was left in the way of food was several small bags of rice crackers and spiced nuts. He stuffed a few packages of crackers in his duffel bag for later; he usually tried to avoid salt before big matches since it made him bloated, but free food was free food. Besides, he knew he’d have some time off once he took that G1 Climax briefcase off Ibushi later that night. He could bloat as much as he wanted then.

As Kenta took a sip of his bottled water, he heard the door creak and footsteps entering the room. 

“Oh...I didn’t realize you’d be in here. I’ll come back later.”

Kenta immediately recognized Katsuyori Shibata’s voice. He’d known it for so long at this point that it was permanently imprinted into his brain. He never really noticed before how much the sound of it resonated throughout his body, deep and soft and comfortable when it was just the two of them, although slightly more clipped and impersonal now and Kenta couldn’t blame him for that. 

“It’s fine, might as well take some food now,” Kenta said. “Besides, I doubt there will be anything left if you wait.” 

He picked up an unopened water bottle and offered it to him. Shibata didn’t take it. The room was uncomfortably quiet as he inspected the few remaining bags of nuts. Kenta couldn’t help but watch him go over each bag and quietly read through the ingredients to himself. In all the time that he had known him, Kenta wasn’t sure he had ever seen Shibata eat anything close to junk food. Perhaps, he thought, he was also hoarding it for later.

“I didn’t realize you’d be on this tour, Shibata-san,” Kenta said, doing his best to sound nonchalant.

“Hmm?” Shibata didn’t look up at him. “I’m not, not officially. But they’re having me do some interviews for the Young Lion Cup so it was easier to just come along. I can keep an eye on the boys better that way, anyway.”

“I guess that explains the suit then?” Kenta said and Shibata gave an affirmative grunt. 

The air in the room seemed heavy between them. After a long pause, Shibata turned to stare him down. “Is there something you want, Kenta-san?” he asked, his voice quiet.

Kenta took a sip of his water, not breaking eye contact. “No...not particularly. You just look really nice right now,” he said. It was a monstrous understatement on his part. Shibata always had a presence to him, both in the ring and out, and the rare occasions where he was obligated to put on a suit only amplified it. The fact that someone back in Los Angeles had finally set him up with a tailor made that presence even stronger. And Kenta couldn’t take his eyes off him. The way the jacket draped across his broad shoulders and nipped in at his slim waist, the way his suit pants were cut narrow but not tight and made his legs look a mile long: he wanted to feel all of it against him and on top of him. Consuming him. Perhaps, he thought, if he hadn’t turned his back on him a month prior, he could have still had all of that. But perhaps it was still worth a shot.

“Thank you,” Shibata said. “And you look, well, different.”

“Good different, I hope?” Kenta said with a smirk as he ran his hand through his hair. Despite his best efforts, it was still a rougher texture than he was used to from the bleach.

“Just...different. I’m not used to you as a blonde yet. It’s not bad different, though.”

Not bad different. Kenta could work with that. He walked over to where Shibata was standing and hoisted himself up to sit in front of him on the makeshift buffet table. Shibata didn’t back away from him suddenly invading his personal space, which Kenta took as a positive sign. 

“Tell me more,” Kenta said, leaning in closer and daring his former partner to back away. He didn’t.

“Well, for one thing, it makes it easier for me to pretend you’re not the same Kenta-san who decided that everything we had together wasn’t enough,” Shibata said. “Now I can look at you and tell myself you’re a complete stranger and not the asshole I thought I loved.”

“A handsome complete stranger, though?” Kenta could see Shibata struggling to respond to that. 

“Yes, okay! Are you satisfied?” he growled. “Fuck you, Kenta-san.”

Kenta couldn’t help but smile. “Maybe you should,” he said, sliding his hand up the side of Shibata’s face and pulling him in close.

“That’s the absolute last thing I should do. No matter how much you beg, no matter how much you throw yourself at me. No matter how much you want to act like what you did to me doesn’t matter and you can just have me back whenever it suits you with no regard for how I feel about it all.”

“And yet you’re still not pushing me away right now,” Kenta said quietly. The last time he had touched Katsuyori Shibata was the G1 Finals and now, with his face in his hand, he could feel nothing but electricity between them. He wanted it, desired it, craved absolutely nothing else right then. Of all the things the Bullet Club had given him in the past month, they couldn’t replace the raw passion he had once shared with Shibata. That wasn’t what they were about. And while this wasn’t the same passion as when they had been together, it was close enough to do the job. This was passion soaked in rage and hate. This was passion that knew it should know better but still couldn’t help itself. This was the passion that Kenta was trying to draw out and absorb into himself when he pressed himself in for a kiss.

He half expected Shibata to throw him off and was pleasantly surprised when he didn’t. He kissed messily and hungrily, burying his fingers in Shibata’s hair and his tongue in Shibata’s mouth and never for a second looking at anything other than him. He let his legs wrap around Shibata’s waist, urging his body to come closer to his own if only so he could feel exactly how hard he was making him just by his very existence. In response, Shibata pushed him backwards onto the table and leaned in hard against him, only letting his mouth separate from Kenta’s so that he could breathe. 

“You’re right, Kenta-san,” he said. “I’m not rejecting you. Because despite my better judgement, you’re still my weakness. You weasel your way into my brain and push every button I have. And as much as I try to stay mad at you, I still can’t fucking quit you. Now roll over.”

“Why rush our reunion like this?” 

“You said you wanted me to fuck you, right? Let’s get this over with before someone catches us.”

Kenta sweeped the few snack bags left on the table off to the side and rolled onto his stomach, the laminate surface of the table smooth and cold against his cheek. He could hear Shibata unzipping the fly of his pants and rustling with the various layers of his suit. Shibata’s hands grabbed roughly at his waist, pressing him against the table as he pulled down Kenta’s shorts, exposing his ass to air. He palmed an ass cheek, fondling it hard and smacking it as soon as he felt Kenta moaning beneath him. 

“You miss it much?” Kenta said, moaning at the sensation of Shibata spreading his cheeks with his thumbs.

“...yes, god damn it. No thanks to you.”

How long had it been since Shibata was last inside him? All those nights during the G1 felt like a lifetime ago, those hot and humid hotel room nights when Shibata held him close enough to taste the sweat on him. They would throw all the blankets off the beds and rut until exhaustion, a tangle of limbs and fluids struggling to find a balance between enjoying every possible inch of each other and not disturbing Shibata’s dojo trainees in the room next door. It was all Kenta could think about as his old friend shoved his cock into him. It was rough and hard and Kenta could feel the rage in every single thrust, every single negative emotion Shibata had built up towards him in the month since he had betrayed him. He bit down on his own fist to keep himself from crying out. He wanted nothing more than to scream for Shibata to fuck him harder, to fuck him deeper, to ravage him and fill him with his power so he could channel it into beating the shit out of Ibushi later. 

Kenta writhed under the sensation of Shibata pressing him into the table as he fucked him, his strong hands grasping at his hips and shoulders, his fingers massaging deep into the muscles of his back. He could feel Shibata’s nails scraping at his skin through his shirt and he had to hold himself back from telling him to just go for it and leave marks. Kenta gasped as he felt Shibata run his fingers up the back of his neck and bury themselves in his hair, pulling his head up off the table with a handful of ashy blonde strands.

“You really need to stop being this handsome, Kenta-san. I’m trying my hardest to keep my feelings in check and you’re just making it impossible,” Shibata said between thrusts.

“If it gets you to plow me like this?” Kenta said, smirking. “Despite everything? I’ll never stop. I’ll only get worse if it means you’ll just keep coming back.”

“You evil little shit. Why even turn on me in the first place if you still want everything I can do to you?” Shibata buried himself deep in Kenta’s ass, making him moan like he was being split in half.

“Because- ahh, because I’ve been held back for too many years and if I see a chance to get over, you better fucking believe I’m taking it. No matter the consequences.”

Kenta felt Shibata grip him hard, his body tense against his back as he blew his load inside him. Shibata groaned through clenched teeth as he came, rolling his hips slowly against Kenta’s ass until he was no longer stiff enough to keep his cock inside him. He withdrew and stuffed his dick back into his suit pants, turning away from Kenta as he adjusted his clothing and tried his best to look like he hadn’t just fucked the man he once called his soulmate on a sad buffet table.

“You know, if I had known you would give it to me like that, I would have broken things off with you years ago,” Kenta mumbled as he rolled onto his back and pawed at his own erection straining against the front of his shorts. 

Shibata grabbed the collar of Kenta's shirt, pulling him roughly off the table. "If I had known you betrayed me just because you thought it would make me fuck you better, you'd have to be carried out of the ring on a stretcher," he said, slapping him hard across the cheek for good measure.

“But I didn't," Kenta whined. "At least help me finish then? Fuck, I’m really close, Shibata-san.”

“No. Do it yourself. You say you don’t care about the consequences of your actions against me? There’s one consequence I imagine you still care about.”

Kenta groaned as he listened to Shibata walk out of the room. He thought he could feel Shibata’s jizz dripping from his ass and barely had the energy to pull his shorts down the rest of the way so it didn’t stain them. As he stroked himself to completion, he tried to focus on his upcoming match and not on whether letting Shibata fuck him like that made him feel fulfilled and powerful or just exhausted and raw. He couldn’t remember if there was napkins set out with the snacks that he could use to clean himself up. God, he hoped there were napkins.

**Author's Note:**

> I swear I have other stuff I'm working on that has important things like, oh, a PLOT, but this was just itching to get out of me. Congrats on the new hair Kenta!


End file.
